Arthur and the Badlands
by nyejideie
Summary: Arthur is alive and wakes up in a destitute place where he has no authority. He has to get across the Badlands to reach Camelot. The Badlands; a land of magic of both evil and good. And with the help of his new friends, he may have a second chance at being the king Camelot deserves. But he will have to survive the Badlands first. And to do that, he will need to suspend his beliefs.


Merlin alternative ending

Arthur is alive and wakes up in a destitute place where he has no authority. He remembers his death and what Merlin told him. After some reflection, his asks the locals to help him find his way home so he can attempt to make things right.

"What is he doing?" little Greer asks as Arthur shakes in his sleep. His eyes shut tight as if something is daring to pry them open. _No, _Arthur moans as he relives his death in his dream. "He's scary."

"Greer, let him rest." Mabel rests her hand on Greer's little shoulder, then leads her out of the room.

"Dragon…" Arthur groans. Tension in his face. Susurrus and Mable look at each other with concern.

"He's seen a dragon," Mabel says.

"Let's allow him his rest." Susurrus stands up from his old, aching knees, grabbing onto Mabel's nightgown for support. "Mabel, my dear, when he wakes, feed him." Mabel nods with a reluctant expression. Susurrus walks in front of her and she closes the door behind them after blowing out the candle.

The morning, sunlight enters the window by Arthur's bedside. Mabel and Greer wait outside his room, listening for stirs and speech, but he never moves, never makes a sound.

"Should we go in there?" Greer asks.

"No, he's probably still resting."

The sunlight forces Arthur to open his eyes, but that was all the movement his brain could manage. He lay there, just staring out the window. Mabel leans outside his door, waiting and sighing as if this poor man has just put a dent in her life.

"When are his people coming for him? He won't like us," Greer says.

"It's doesn't matter what he likes or doesn't like here," Mabel responds.

Arthur was remembering everything as he lay there. His expression stoic as Merlin's perceived betrayal crept to the center of his mind. Merlin, his humble servant, had magic the whole time. The lies, the deceit… the envy. A mirage of Guinevere takes over his thoughts and he stirs as if trying to grab her close, but she fades. Tears stroll down the King's face, feeling hopeless. Arthur's body refuses to move. He lays there as if there is nothing worth getting up for. Not Guinevere's well-belling, not Camelot's, not anything. He remembers there were people on the other side of the river he floated to on the raff. They pulled him out and must have brought him here. He remembers grabbing excalibur. He remembers dying. But how he is alive now, he doesn't want to know or even think about. All he knows is it has to do with magic.

Mabel sighs and shifts her body, leaning her shoulder against the door, she knocks lightly three times. Arthur hears from the other side of the door, but pretends he is still asleep. Arthur lays in bed throughout the day. He can hear the family mumbling here and there through the thin walls, but doesn't bother trying to make out what they are saying. When night returns and moonlight enters through the window, he realises that he wasted a whole day feeling sorry for himself. Something he would have never done back in Camelot. Arthur closes his eyes, but the moon refuses to let him sleep. So he stays awake.

Asleep, Arthur shifts his weight and feels a cold tapping on his hand. His groggy eyes open and looks down to see a little brown eyed girl with brown curls and a dirty face staring at him curiously and harshly. He quickly pulls himself up to the head of the bed, staring at her right back.

Mabel bursts through the door with a wooden tray of muffins. "Ah, he's awake. Finally..." she gripes. She sets the tray down on the bedside table. Arthur glares at her and leans away. "Now, now. There is no reason to fear. You are Arthur Pendragon. My father found you a couple of days ago and brought you to our home. He said you were injured in the battle."

"Injured?" Arthur stares peculiarly. "I died."

Mabel stops short, then continues. "You're in Chalindor. I'm Mabel Honeygrass. This is…" She pulls Greer back by the tail of her dress. "Greer, my daughter. She's six."

Arthur nods to the both of them. "What am I doing here?"

"Well. We were planning on nursing you back to health and sending you on your way, but you wouldn't wake up," she says playfully.

"Sorry," he mumbles. His energy drops, and his head falls to the left, staring out the window. Mabel is lost for words, wanting to console him but can't.

"Oh, cheer up there. You won the battle against Morgana and her army..."

Arthur turns his head to her at the tone of her voice. "You don't sound very happy about that."

"Why should I feel anything, I don't know you or her."

"Are you going to ban magic here?" Greer speaks up.

"Greer," Mabel scorns. Grabbing her by her shoulders, Mabel leads her out of the room. "Sorry. She's just a child."

"You practice magic here?"

"Well, it's not illegal. Some people do, some people don't." She changes the subject. "Are you able to move? You need to wash."

"I want to stay in bed forever, but I realize I can't. My people are wondering where I am."

"Your people think you are dead." She looks away.

"Why did your father help me?"

"He saw a man in need."

"Do you practice magic?"

"Why does it matter to you? You're not our ruler," she says, defensive.

"Look. I don't care."

"You cared when you were in Camelot. We heard so many stories about how the new king of Camelot is just like his wretched, evil father."

Arthur winces. "You speak ill of the dead?" he asks in a threatening manner.

"I speak ill of whom I please. You don't own my tongue."

"Indeed I don't." His lips a straight line.

Mabel smiles and grabs a muffin from the tray. "Hungry?"

"I can't eat. I'm too disgusted."

"Oh, come on…"

"My stomach won't allow it."

"Perhaps you're being dramatic. You haven't eaten since you been here. You've been asleep the whole time." Mabel puts the muffin to his mouth, but he refuses to take it. "Very well. Suit yourself." And puts it back on the tray. "What is it? You said you were disgusted."

"My best friend, he… betrayed me."

"Oh. Surely you can get over it, if you're really best friends."

"It's not that simple. All this time I've known him, he lied, acting like my humble, foolish servant. He has magic. This whole time he had it. I'm the real fool for not putting it together."

"Surely you can work things out. Most people tend to have magic these days."

"For his sake, we can't work anything out. I can't go back to Camelot. I'd have to enforce the law if I do. I'd have to kill him. I can't kill Merlin, even for what he did. My people will see me as weak and start taking advantage if they see my servant can get away with magic. Or worse, they may start believing that I don't deserve to be king."

"You can still change the law."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "You said everyone thinks I'm dead anyway."

"Oh I get it. You don't want to."

"No, that's not it. So many people have betrayed Camelot using magic and come after me using magic. I'd be sanctioning my own demise. I'd be saying 'here evildoers and enemies of the crown, put down your sword and use magic to defeat me'. I can't."

"Suit yourself…" Mabel leaves him to himself.

He sinks into his sheets for a few more minutes before deciding to get up. Moments later he is leaning in the doorway of their kitchen.

"You're up," Mabel says, smiling as she cleans a bowl over the sink.

"The sun is too bright. It won't let me sleep."

"Maybe that's a good thing in your case." She slaps some stew into the bowl and sets it on the table across from Greer.

"What made you get up?"

"I was thinking about my wife. How sad she must feel. How my land must be overrun with enemies. Even though my friend has betrayed me, I still want to know how he is."

"So you want to leave? We can take you. We have to prepare first."

A shiny slither of gold and silver catches his eye laying under a potato bag. He rushes to it and pushes the bag out of the way. "The sword," Arthur says, stunned. "Where."

"It was attached to your hand when my father brought you here. He had to pry it from your half dead body."

"Excalibur."

"You named your sword?" she laughs.

He backs away from it. "It's charmed," he says as if to warn her of danger.

"So what if it is. It's still yours. Well if you don't want it, there are people in town who'd gladly buy it off you."

"Merlin," he groans.

"Now who's Merlin?"

"My friend I told you about. He knew this whole time it had magic. He probably charmed it. And Gaius. I wonder who else has been lying to me."

"Don't be afraid of an object. If it's charmed, it's probably meant to protect you. Go on, pick it up and see. Don't be afraid."

Arthur grabs the sword by the handle and studies it. "I believe this thing saved my life."

"Your sword is alive?"

Arthur shrugs. "Could be."

"Well then see. Not all magic is bad."

"If it has the power to protect, then it also has the power to harm."

"So do people. But you can't stop them from being born."

"You're quite defensive about magic, Lady Honeygrass," he says accusingly. After finishing her porridge, Greers comes to see the sword.

"Never touch it," Mabel warns her. She nods. "Anyways, the only way back to Camelot from Chalindor is through the Badlands. You may have to drop your intolerance for magic for a little while since we are going to need protection spells to make it through the Badlands… and back home."

"More magic…" he gripes. He swings Excalibur around in a circle. "How long will this journey take?"

"It depends. Could be a short trip or it could take forever. It depends on how we fare."

He raises his eyebrows and smiles sarcastically, "Great."


End file.
